


Rewinding

by Number42



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Abby is a good sister, And then screws everything up, Angst, But now I'm just kinda making it up, Canon Divergence, Cassettes, Cecil's mum is an ass, Child Abuse, Dammit Steve, Fluff, I don't write nice parents, It started as a theory, Josie is awesome, Lots of bad stuff happens to Cecil, M/M, Mirror thing, Steve is helpful, Time Travel, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, reeducation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Number42/pseuds/Number42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-CANCELLED-</p><p>For several years now the mystery of the cassettes has been just that: A mystery.<br/>But there is science, and there is weird Night Vale logic, and together they can bring great things.<br/>Time travel, for example.<br/>And with that, Cecil Palmer and Carlos the Scientist find out some things that no one was supposed to remember.<br/>And soon wish they hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I can't tell you over text

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be a big story. I've been writing it for a while now, before I joined this site, so I'm uploading a bunch in one go. But then it'll slow down, since I have a LOT of school work. Eh. Not like anyone will read this.  
> This started out as a theory I had, but then the things I had to do to make it work made it spiral off into a Canon Divergence story. Oops.  
> Oh well. Hope you enjoy this weird little thing!

    “...and have now outlawed the possession of fish. Anyone found owning fish in their homes, will disappear for what feels like years to some, and minutes to others. They will return blank copies of themselves, eyes staring off into a lost time only they can see, repeating the word ‘mushroom’ over and over as if it's the only thing that lets them cling to their hollow remains of a soul.  
    However, since we are in the desert, it would be hard to… Uh… Would be hard to…  
    I- I'm sorry listeners, my phone has been going crazy. Someone's been texting me for a while now, and it seems pretty urgent… I'll just check who it's from…  
    Oh!  
    Oh, listeners, beautiful imperfect Carlos -My boyfriend, I don't know if I've mentioned that- has been texting me! I- I should finish this broadcast, though. It's my job, my livelihood, after all…  
    Um...  
    Alright, as I was saying, it would be difficult to be in possession of a fish as we do not currently have a body of water larger than a bathtub near us. And those would be bathtubs. We haven't had bathtub fish for at least seven years now.  
    Stay tuned for a feeling of confusion, followed by sudden longing, and topped off with a twinge of doubt.  
    Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight.”

    Cecil switched off the microphone, allowing the next program to play uninterrupted. He picked up his phone, texts still coming in, causing it to vibrate constantly. Excitement rose in his chest as his mind raced with possible things he could be about to read. Whatever could be causing Carlos to try so hard to get his attention.

CECIL CALL ME QUICKLY

THIS IS HUGE JUST PICK UP THE PHONE

HUGE DISCOVERY THIS IS IMPORTANT

CECIL

I’VE WORKED IT OUT CEC

WE CAN FIGURE IT OUT

PICK UP THE PHONE

CECIL

    Cecil raised an eyebrow. Carlos often texted Cecil with exciting scientific discoveries, it was part of who he was. But this felt different. What could be so big that Carlos wouldn't tell Cecil over text?  
   Cecil pressed on Carlos’ number, and hit call.  
    Carlos picked up almost immediately. “Cecil! Hi! I'm sorry, but.. Oh, this is AMAZING!”  
    “What, Carlos?” Cecil said, grabbing his coat and slinging it over his shoulders.  
    “It's- I- Uh- Oh, I can't tell you over phone, you need to come see me! I'm at the lab, come quick!”  
    Cecil was already out the door. “You know I can't just abandon my show halfway through. Station Management already got angry with me for texting you on air. What made you think I could just drop everything and come over?”  
    “Yes, I know. I'm sorry. It's just… Look, just hurry up and come over! I've gotta go, the test tubes are biting Ellie's fingers again. I love you!”  
    “I love you too.”  
    The phone went dead.  
    Cecil blinked in confusion. Wonderful Carlos had sounded so excited… And yet scared at the same time, like he couldn't quite comprehend the implications of whatever it was he had just discovered.  
    He had to get there quickly.


	2. Science Solves Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore my bad attempts at making time travel possible.

    Cecil arrived at Carlos’ lab, panting and out of breath from the run. He never drove his car to work, as he enjoyed the ten minute walk to the station from his house. He occasionally regretted this decision when he needed to leave the station quickly due to an infestation of zombie ladybugs or something else mundane like that. He regretted it now.  
    He pushed opened the door and half stepped, half fell into the lab.  
    “Carlos? Carlos, I'm here!”  
    “Cecil!” Carlos appeared from behind one of the odd contraptions on his desk. This one was large, metal, and making some sort of bubbling noise while belching out blue smoke like a busted computer. “Cecil, okay, I've gotta show you this.” He ran out from behind the desk and grabbed Cecil's hand, then proceeded to drag him across the room to a sheet-covered table at the far end.  
    “What's going on? Is there trouble?” Cecil asked, trying to guess what the covered lump on the table might be.  
    “No no no, the opposite, really!” Carlos said, his face lighting up with the giddy excitement he always got when talking about science. “Here, I'll try and explain it simply: You know how time isn't real here?”  
    Cecil nodded. It was true. Even his watch, the one Carlos had given him for their anniversary and insisted was the only working clock in Night Vale, refused to accurately portray any reasonable time on its face. Days and minutes tended to mix together, and reverse at will, yet always reverted back to some length of normality by the time everyone was ready for bed. It was just a part of life, and the town had accepted it.  
    “And that got me thinking.” Carlos continued. “If it isn't real, can it be manipulated? Imaginary things can be changed with pure thought, so why not this? And so, I have concluded that with enough amplified thought…”  
    He took Cecil by the shoulders, grinning with mad, childish excitement.  
    “ _Time travel,_ Cec.”  
    Cecil frowned. Time travel was legal now, yes, but no one had ever done it! Only the Traveller, if what he claimed was true. And the morse code signals from the Narrow Place.  
    He couldn't see why Carlos was so excited though. What uses could time travel be?  
    He voiced this to Carlos, who's grin grew even wider.  
    “ _Cecil_.” he said, in a voice that was almost a whisper. “ _The cassettes_.”  
    It took him a moment.  
    Then his eyes grew wide.  
    “ _I can know…_ ” he breathed.  
    Carlos pulled the sheet off the table, revealing a small box-like instrument with a lot of little buttons and lights on it.  
    “This is a thought amplifier!” Carlos said. “By scanning your brainwaves in the same way the SSP does, it can pick out the ones you need and-”  
    But Cecil wasn't listening.  
 _I can know._  
    The thought echoed in his mind, filling up every possible space.  
 _I can know._  
    Carlos seemed to notice that Cecil was lost in his own head. “Hey Cec.” he laughed. “You alright?”  
    Cecil shook himself out and nodded. “Yeah, I- I just-”  
    “We don't have to do this if you don't want to.”  
    Cecil jumped to life. “No! Oh, sweet Carlos, of course I want to!”  
    Carlos grinned. “I knew you would. C’mon, we just need to get you hooked up to the amplifier and-”  
    “Wait, now?” Cecil broke in.  
    “Well, yeah.”  
    “Isn't that a little, you know… Rushed?”  
    Carlos laughed and waved his hand, brushing the thought away. “Nah. The sooner the better! And it's not like we can't just come back five minutes after we left anyways.”  
    “But last time you said two hours, and…” he trailed off.   
    “I promise we'll be back on time. Science never fails.”  
    “Actually-”  
    Carlos grabbed Cecil's hand and stuck a sharp, needle covered, sticker-like thing on the top.  
    “Ow!” Cecil yelled, pulling his hand away. It tugged on the cord, causing even more pain.  
    “Sorry.” Carlos said, sticking one on his own hand. “It has to link in properly.” He winced. “Wow, that does hurt.”  
    He reached towards the machine, pressing buttons and adjusting levers. “What's the easiest thing to remember for you at age fifteen?”  
    “Well…” Cecil thought for a moment. “...Abby. My sister. I remember her when she was eighteen. She's three years older than me, so that should work.”  
    “You're going to have to concentrate really hard because I don't know myself what she looked like back then.”  
    Cecil nodded. He could do that. Abby was one of the easier things to remember for him. It helped that he still saw her once in awhile, out at the park with Janice, or picking up groceries at the Ralph's.  
    He imagined her younger face, with her ghost-white hair, and deep brown eyes. Her tattoos, snaking up her arms and collarbone, portraying the arms of octopi and lily flowers. Her loose, teenage clothes, always slightly grungy, due to the fact that they had to do the laundry themselves, and their school schedules made this difficult.  
    He imagined his sister. Age eighteen. The last age he saw her before the fear and the gaps started.  
    He felt a faint tingle cover him. A physical dimension of light waving across his body. He heard nothing and everything at  once. Both Carlos, telling him it will be okay, to just keep imagining; and silence. These two realities of sound happening simultaneously and yet unlinked.  
    Carlos gripped his hand, and Cecil felt it and did not feel it at all. Weight pressed against his chest, and reality seemed a laughable thing, so far away now, just the distant echo of a bad dream.  
    He lost consciousness.


	3. It's Still Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did describe Cecil in this one, slightly. You can ignore it, though it will come up again in a more plot-relevant way. Sorry.

    Cecil Gerswin Palmer awoke to the sound of wheels on tarmac, screeching as they swerved out of the way. He blinked, still only half conscious. The world was a blur around him, and he couldn't remember where he was, or even who he was.  
    Until a pair of hands grabbed him and yanked him out of the way, as the wheels of a truck rolled over where his head had been just moments before.  
    “Oh god, are you okay?!” a familiar voice said, cutting through the swamp of his mind. “Oh my god, Cec, I'm sorry! I should've realized we’d black out! You were almost killed!”  
    “Huh…?” he murmured. “...C...Carlos?”  
    Carlos lifted Cecil's arm over his shoulder, helping him to his feet. Cecil felt himself teetering, and Carlos only just caught him before he hit the ground again.  
    “You put more mental effort into it, so you're bound to be more out of it than I am. C’mon, let's get you somewhere safe.”  
    Carlos carefully walked towards an alley nearby, helping Cecil every time he stumbled, gently talking him through. Once they reached it, he lay him down on the cold ground, away from the prying eyes of the general public. He took off his lab coat, put it next to Cecil, and gently rolled him onto it. “Don't want you catching a cold the moment we get here.” He leant over and gave the radio host a small kiss on the forehead. “I'll be right back.” he said. “I need to get the machine before a car hits it.”  
    He stood up and left the alley, leaving Cecil alone in the cold, wet, darkness.   
    Cecil's head was still swimming. Nothing around him seemed to make sense. All he knew was that Carlos was there. And if     Carlos was there, he couldn't imagine anything bad happening. Even in this terrifying, freezing, alien place, he took comfort in that.  
   He used what little energy he had to grasp at shards of memory, trying to understand what was happening. The texts, Carlos’ lab, the tingling overtaking him. And then nothing. He had been left in the dark abyss, unsure of anything at all, and then the next thing he knew he had almost been forcefully and unwelcomely removed from existence.  
    It was all a bit much.  
    Carlos was back. He placed a familiar looking object down on the ground beside him. “Some dog almost ran away with it.” he said. “We would've certainly had a problem then.”   
    Carlos looked at his boyfriend, trying to take in the state he was in, and how best to help.  
    “Oh, sweetie…” he said. “Look at you, you're collapsing. We need someone who can help us…”  
    But there was no one. This was Night Vale before Carlos knew it, and before anyone knew this version of Cecil. It was surely far too dangerous to reveal who they were. He needed someone who would take in strangers…  
    Oh yeah.  
    Would that work…?  
    Well, it was his best shot.  
  
   It had taken twenty minutes to get to where he needed, even though they were only about a three minute walk away. Cecil had blacked out again, and Carlos had to carry him through back alleys to avoid suspicion or capture.  
    Cecil was smaller than him, and usually it wouldn't have been extremely difficult, but the alley floors were slippery, and he himself was- while not as bad as Cecil- drained from the trip there. There was also the problem of holding the machine.  
    But he made it without dropping the unconscious man once, which he had to admit was pretty good considering the circumstances.  
    Strategically raising a hand while still keeping Cecil steady, he knocked on the door of Old Woman Josie's house.  
    There was a slight scuffle from inside, and the door was opened. Josie still looked relatively the same as Carlos knew her.     Perhaps a few less wrinkles around the eyes. She couldn't have been more than ten years younger than Carlos remembered. This information came as a surprise, as he had assumed they would be at least fifteen or twenty years back. Maybe he wasn't the younger of his relationship after all.  
    Josie looked the scientist up and down, and peered at Cecil's quiet face. She was seeming to be deducing them, not saying a word.  
    “He alive?” she said at last, gesturing to Cecil. Carlos nodded.  
    “I think he's fine. But not if I can't get shelter. I don't know anyone from this ti- Town. From this town. Could you maybe let us stay here, at least until he wakes up? If it's no bother, of course…”  
    Josie sighed. “Eh, alright.” she said, stepping back to allow him to pass. “Not too long though, I don't like to ‘ave strangers in my home much.”  
    Carlos thought of the Erikas, appearing one day out from the blue (or from heaven?) and settling right down without issue. Either Josie wasn't being perfectly honest with them about her visitor tolerance, or she had changed a lot in those years.  
    Carlos lay Cecil down on Josie's couch, propping his head up with a pillow. His hair fell back to reveal his third eye, also shut, but still painfully noticeable. Carlos frantically brushed the hair back over before Josie could see. They couldn't risk being found out. Carlos had no idea if Cecil had had this odd trait as a teenager, but if he did, it would certainly be a connection people would quickly make.  
    He wasn't really sure what to do with the machine. Then the kitchen door creaked open and he shoved it under the couch without a second thought.  
   The old woman was back in the room, holding a tray with three steaming mugs of tea out in front of her. Carlos briefly wondered how she had made them that quickly, but decided he had more pressing things to worry about than another typical Night Vale blip.  
    He graciously accepted the tea, putting the cup meant for Cecil on the table in front of him. Josie watched him do this, her body language casual, but her eyes alert and intense.  
    “I- I'm really sorry to just show up like this-” Carlos stammered. Josie raised a hand to cut him off.  
    “It's fine. If yer need help, yer need help. Nothin’ against going to get what yer need.” She raised an eyebrow. “But tell me, why’dya need it?”  
    Carlos froze. He had known this question was coming. But that didn't make him any more prepared for it. “Uh- these… These men came- While we were walking down main street- And they took him to- I think it was called… Re-Education?”  
    He hoped that his fumbling for a good story would be mistaken for fumbling to figure out what had happened.  
    Joise frowned, peering at Cecil. “Tha’ don't look like re-education ta me.” she said. Carlos felt sweat drip from his cheek. He had to make this work.  
    “It… It happens a lot here then? I- I guess he wasn't used to it- I guess something went wrong…”  
    “Hmm.” Josie replied. “An’ you said yer not from ‘ere?”  
    Carlos nodded.   
    “It's very ‘ard to reach this here town, yer know.”  
    Carlos nodded again. “We got lost, I guess.”  
    Josie gave a heavy sigh and stood up, picking up Carlos’ empty cup of tea to bring it back to the kitchen. She left Cecil's there.  
    “I don't believe a word yer sayin’.” Carlos heard Josie mutter. “Bu’ perhaps it's better I don't know.”  
    Carlos didn't know quite how to react to that.


	4. Excuses

    Cecil awoke about half an hour later, his senses finally in (somewhat) working order. Carlos, delighted, greeted him with a kiss. “Welcome back!” he grinned.  
    Josie stuck her head around the kitchen doorframe. “Ah. Yer awake.” she said. Cecil jolted upright.  
    Josie laughed. “It okay, I don't bite.”  
    Cecil looked quickly to Carlos with an unspoken question. Carlos shook his head. _No_. he replied without words. _She doesn't know who we are._  
    Cecil awkwardly waved, trying hard to hide the fact that he was internally freaking out. Josie laughed again.  
    “Yer a cutie, eh?”  
    Cecil turned bright red from head to toe. “Uh-”  
    Josie gestured to the tea on the table. “It's probably cold by now, if yer want I can warm it up.”  
    “I… Uh… Sure?” Cecil said. “I mean, y-yes please?”  
    Josie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Don't worry ‘bout being polite, kid. I ain't a stuck up.” She picked up the cup and walked out of the room.  
    Before Carlos even had the time to say anything to Cecil, she was back, the mug now steaming. She handed it to Cecil.  
    “Yer know…” she said, sitting herself down. “I never got yer names. Mind me asking?”  
    “Uh, I'm Carlos.” Carlos said, knowing that his name wouldn't be a danger to reveal.   
    Cecil however…  
    “An’ you?” Josie said to Cecil.   
    “Um- Kevin!” Cecil blurted out in a panic. There was a brief silence. Cecil looked mortified.  
    Josie nodded. “Nice to meet yer. I'm Josie.”  
    Carlos glanced at Cecil, who was still frozen. It was curious of him to choose that name, though he supposed it did make the most sense. No one would know the actual Kevin, and neither of them would forget it.  
    “Now, what are yer in Night Vale for?” Josie asked. “We don't get many interlopers ‘ere.”  
    Carlos supposed this would be his best chance for information, even if it was a bit risky. “There's a boy we’re looking for.” he said. “Cecil Palmer. He'd be about fifteen?”  
    Josie was silent for a few moments. Carlos felt his face grow hotter and fidgeted with his hands.   
    “Why?” Josie said, after an uncomfortably long silence.  
    “Uh…” Carlos had no explanation for this.  
    “We found some things in our home.” Cecil said. “Tapes. We think they fell through a universe rift, we get a lot of those in our house. They were of a boy, Cecil. We want to find him.”  
    Josie nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, he makes those. An’ universe rifts are common ‘ere too.”  
    “Can you help us find him?” Carlos asked.  
    “I wish.” Josie sighed. “But honestly, I've been tryin’ to find him myself.”  
    This surprised them both.   
    “He's missing?” Cecil asked.  
    “For two weeks now.” Josie said. “‘Bout a week after he joined the internship program.” She sighed again. “I warned ‘im. Not many come back from that job.”  
    Cecil looked briefly insulted. Then he shook himself out, trying to comprehend what Josie was saying. “He's gone…?”   
    “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Josie said. “Bu’ I can always direct yer to his house.”  
    Carlos looked to Cecil for help. Cecil nodded.  
    “Yes.” he said quietly. “Yes, that would be good.”


	5. Home is Where the Hell is

    Cecil wasn't knocking.  
    He simply stood there, staring at the door. Carlos put a hand in his arm.  
    “Hey, you can do it.” he said gently. “Just remember the story we’ll use.”  
    They had figured that the cassettes story may not get them very far in finding out where he was, and so had developed a more information gaining (though still pretty risky) disguise.   
    Cecil nodded, though he didn't seem convinced it would go well. Carlos brushed over his boyfriend's hair to conceal the eye better. Before bringing his hand back down, he planted a kiss on Cecil's cheek. “It'll be fine.”  
    Cecil took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.  
    It opened a few inches to reveal a middle aged woman, wrapped in a heavy black shawl. She glared at the two with animalistic eyes, her entire face looking permanently exhausted.   
    Cecil was shaking.  
    “What do you want.” she said coldly.  
    “We're from the SSP.” Carlos said, using rehearsed words. “We're investigating the disappearance of Cecil Gershwin Palmer. You're his mother?”  
    Cecil's mother looked at them without any sign of emotion for a few seconds. Then she slammed the door right in their face without a word.  
    “Oh.” Carlos said.  
    Cecil grasped his hand. He was shivering violently. Carlos felt concerned. No. Not concern.  
    Afraid.  
   Afraid for Cecil.  
    “We need to try again.” he said quietly. “I'm sorry, but it's the only way we can find something out.”  
    “I know…” Cecil replied. His voice was a hoarse whisper.   
    Carlos have his hand a reassuring squeeze, and knocked again.  
   The door swung (quite dramatically) all the way open this time.  
   “Go away!” Mrs. Palmer shrieked.  
    “M’am, please let us in.” Carlos said. “Or we will have to bring you in for reeducation.”  
    The blood ran from Mrs. Palmer’s face. “I-”  
    “But won't it all be fine?” a voice said from inside. “Won't you be perfectly safe?”  
   “Shut your mouth child!” Cecil’s mother practically screamed into the house. Carlos fliched. He felt Cecil shrink back besides him, terrified.  
    “Let us inside or I call the sheriff.” Carlos said.  
    “You don't look like SSP.”  
    “We were recently undercover. If you don't believe us I could always prove it by having you taken away.”  
    Mrs. Palmer growled. “No. Come in.” She stepped back from the door, and the two stepped inside.  
    The house was small and dark, and very badly matinenced. The paint was peeling from the walls, and the couch cushions  were almost in tatters. Carlos felt something run over his foot, and looked down to see a massive rat skittering across the floor. He felt a lump rise in his throat. This couldn't be how Cecil had lived. It just couldn't.  
    There was a girl sitting at a table in the half-empty kitchen. Carlos immediately recognized her as Abby. She was sketching something on a scrap of paper, a scowl on her face from her recent confrontation. She looked up to see them. Her face lit up for half a second, and then seemed to realize she had been mistaken. Sighing, she went back to her sketch. Carlos could tell she was still listening, though.  
    “Why are the SSP looking for a useless fourteen year old child?” Mrs. Palmer said.  
    “He's fifteen.” Abby said from the table. “He just had a birthday, remember?”  
    Mrs. Palmer frowned. “Oh yes. That's right. I gave him that recorder to get him out of my way.”  
    Cecil looked like he had been punched in the stomach.   
    “Do… Do you know where he is now?”  
    “No.”  
    “Yes.” Abby said. It earned her a petrifying glare.  
    “Mrs. Palmer, if you have any information, we must know it.” Carlos said. “Must I remind you of the consequences of failing to do so?”  
    “He went missing.” the woman said curtly. “I don't know any more than that.”  
    “May we have a look around?”  
    Mrs. Palmer gritted her teeth. “Of course officer.” It looked like it physically pained her to say it.   
    Carlos nodded and thanks, took Cecil's arm, and lead him out of the main room and into the hall. He turned to him, worried. “Are you okay?” he whispered. Cecil didn't respond.  
   “I had no idea…” Carlos sighed. “Oh, Cecil. Why didn't you tell me it was like this?”  
    “I… I didn't want to worry you.”  
    Carlos pulled him into a hug. “You wouldn't worry me, sweetie. I just wish I had known. You always talked so fondly of your mother.”  
    Cecil laughed without humour. “Honestly, a lot of it was just wishful thinking. Trying to remember a childhood that didn't happen. When I heard the tapes where it said she'd given me the gift, I had a bit of hope that maybe it wasn't as bad as I remembered, maybe those had just been the memories that had stuck out. But…” he sighed. “I guess not…”  
    Carlos’ heart felt as if it had been wrenched out of his chest. “Let's… Let's just take a look around.”  
    Before they could even leave the hall, however, they headed a voice behind them.  
    “Are you going to help save my brother?”  
   They both turned to see Abby, standing in the doorway. Her face was tight and her fists clenched.  
    “We… We're going to try, yes.” Carlos said.  
    Abby bit her lip. “I can tell you where he is.”


	6. I Hate Emotions

    Eviana Palmer sat alone in her kitchen. She stared at her hands, lips pursed. Abby had, moments ago, stormed out; muttering a swear word at her before disappearing. Eviana, to her own astonishment, had done nothing. She had just sat down and avoided eye contact with her daughter.  
    The drawing Abby had been working on was still on the table. Mrs. Palmer picked it up to get a closer look.  
    It showed a mirror.  
    A mirror with tentacles reaching out, looking to pull someone into the dark abyss of the glass.  
    She felt a lump rise in her throat. Why was she crying? She wasn't crying! That would make no sense…  
    Cecil was useless. Just a pathetic excuse for a child. A pathetic excuse for a Voice.  
    It had gone wrong. He was broken. Why would anyone care about what happened to a broken, useless, pathetic boy?  
    Eviana’s eyes strayed to the cupboard in the corner of the room. The cupboard where the cassette tapes were kept. She'd found them besides the lifeless child, and pocketed them. She had watched as Cecil had gasped back to life, coughing and shaking.  
    She’d taken him away.  
    Looking at the cupboard, knowing of the object inside, remembering the pure joy on the boys face when he was presented them… It shouldn't hurt her.  
    Why did it hurt her?


	7. Mirrors and Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things for this one:  
>  1\. THIS IS ALL TRASH TO BE HONEST. The writings really rushed, and I'm literally making it up as I go along. I probably think about 1% could be canon. Don't look down upon my theory/writing skills due to this peice of crap.  
>  2\. More plot-relevant description. Sorry.

    “We’ve always been pretty poor. Not much food in the house, not much warmth in the winter… But that wasn't what mother hated. She hated being looked down on, being considered a lower member of society. Me and my older brother both had the same father. I don't know who, though. But he’d left when I was born, which made the whole situation even worse. My mother used to be quite a decent person, actually. Not perfect, but far better than now.  
    But she was already struggling before my father left, and I guess it kinda pushed her over the edge. She needed something to redeem herself in Night Vales eyes.  
    She found out she was going to have another kid just after my third birthday. I was really little then, but James has told me about it. She was horrified at first, and basically tore apart the house in anger, while screaming swear words at the top of her lungs. But then, I guess she realized what it could mean.  
    It… It was a horrible thing to do. It would ruin the kid's life. It's a punishment for simply existing in the wrong place at the wrong time. But she tried it anyways.  
    There's this creature. I honestly don't know what it is, but it lives in the mirrors. It's incredibly powerful, and… And it chooses the Voice.  
    Mother knew that having a son who is the Voice would give her the respect she wanted so much. But it wasn't the sort of thing you could just choose. You needed to harness the power of the mirror creature. That wasn't an easy thing to do.  
    She had to catch it.  
    It took her months, and she almost ran out of time before Cecil was born. But she did it. It was the most horrible thing, what she did. She forced it to give Cecil the power of the Voice. And it did. But…  
    Something went wrong.  
    We realized the moment we saw him. Three eyes. No one is born like that. Usually, if those things are going to happen, they appear at age ten or so. Never right from birth.  
    Mother couldn't take it. She almost killed him right then and there, but James convinced her to let him live.  
    From then on, we took care of him. The only time mother interacted with him was to scream and hurt him. But he tried to see the good in her, really. I heard how he talked into those tapes…  
    When he was six, his tattoos appeared. As did mine. It was just another side effect of the failed Voice. Well, it did work sometimes. He would say things he couldn't have known, and be able to convince people to do things for him without a problem. But he never used it for anything bad.   
    But when the tattoos appeared for us, it had a… _Different_ effect on James.  
    Something… _Broke_. In his mind. He sort of glitched, I suppose. He wouldn't speak much anymore, and when he did it didn't sound like him.  
    Sometimes, he seemed completely normal to outside eyes. He was crueler though. Putting Cecil down instead of helping him up. Other times he was barely even human.   
    When Cecil turned fifteen, mother gave him those tapes. He was so happy, it was like he’d been given the world. He loved- I mean, he loves radio. Listens to Leonard every night. But then he got the internship job.  
    Me and Josie both begged him not to go, we knew what could happen. But Cec didn't listen. I really have no idea if it was at all linked to what happened, but you never know. Maybe it was because he was closer to the Voice…?  
    Anyway, mother began acting weirdly. Covering up the mirrors, leaving the house for days at a time… I think she was scared. It made sense. She knew what was coming.  
    And then she took James with her, and was gone. Me and Cecil were left alone.  
    I… I don't know what it was.   
    Somehow it got out. The creature in the mirror. It moved the sheet off the mirror and…  
   ...And it killed him.  
    It killed my little brother.  
    I- I heard it from the next room. By the time I was in there it was too late. I smashed the mirror. I still have cuts on my hand.  
    Then mother was there.  
    I didn't see her come in, she just… Appeared. She didn't seem scared anymore. She told me to leave, that he would be fine. I had to. I had no choice. But I still watched. From behind the doorframe.  
    She picked up the tapes Cecil had dropped and put them in her pocket. And then...  
...Mother… _reached into the mirror_. There was a chunk about two feet across I hadn't managed to break, and she stuck her arm right through it. She pulled out one of the tentacles and whispered it something that looked like a command. I swear the thing looked scared. Mother released it and it retreated back into the mirror. A few moments later, the whole shard glowed. I’m not even kidding.   
    ...And Cecil coughed and rolled over.   
    He was alive! The creature in the mirror had brought him back! I-I was so incredibly happy at first… But… Maybe it'd have been better for him to have died…  
    Crap. Sorry. Forget I said that. That's… That's a horrible thing to say…  
    Mother took him away, then. Re-education. A lot of it. She told me he'd ‘seen what he shouldn't’ve’. I'm not allowed to tell anyone. Doesn't stop me though. One of my friends knows the whole story. He's been helping keep an eye on Cec.   
    And from what he tells me, Cecil needs to be helped _now_.   
    Please.  
    …  
    I… I hope that's enough information…?”  
   

    Abby sat on the bed, arms wrapped around herself, shoulders hunched. She seemed to be terrified of the fact she may have just made a horrible mistake in telling the story.  
    Carlos was stunned. _Does he remember any of this…?_ He snuck a glance at Cecil. His face was the portrait of despair. It was clear at least some of this information was new to him.  
    “Sir…?” Abby said to him. “Are you alright?”  
    “I- Uh-” Cecil stammered. “Your brother, he's still in re-education?”  
    Abby nodded. “At this point, I feel like they've erased half his life from his mind.”  
    Carlos knew what they had to do. It was inevitable really. They could try in other ways, but they'd never have the same chance of success as this.  
    “Abby…” Carlos said. “If we could help you get your brother back, and give you proof he'd be fine, even if we'd need to tamper your memory after its all done for reasons of protecting the timeline... would you agree to it?”  
    Abby was silent for just a moment, weighing the pros and cons simultaneously. Then she nodded. “Yes.”  
    Carlos looked to Cecil.   
    Cecil took a deep breath, and brushed the hair away from his eye. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal his tattoos, the same colouring as his sisters. Abby's expression was one of pure shock and amazement as she took in the information being present to her.  
    “Hey Abby…” Cecil said weakly.


	8. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one, but I've posted shorter. Worked hard to get this out quickly due to some comments that kept me grinning at random points for days.

    The silence in the room was deafening. Abby and Cecil had their eyes locked, both a torrent of indescribable emotions. Carlos was also frozen to the spot, slammed with both hope and apprehension. This could go so many different ways…  
    Abby broke out of it in a sudden burst and threw herself at her brother, hugging him like their lives depended on it. Tears flowed down her face as she sobbed, holding Cecil in her arms. Cecil hugged her back, trying his hardest not to cry as well, but not managing it.  
    “You're alive! You're fine! You get to grow up!” Abby said through her tears. She pulled back, still holding onto Cecil, but now  able to see his face. “How? How did you get out? How did you end up here? Time travel? A universe gap?”  
    “Time travel…” Cecil replied. “C-Carlos did it.” He tilted his head towards Carlos and grinned sheepishly. “He… He's my boyfriend.”  
    Carlos smiled awkwardly and gave a little, equally awkward wave. “Hi.”  
    Abby let out a laugh. “Oh, good job Cec.” she said, grinning. “Got over being unable to speak to a single cute boy, huh?”  
    “He talked about how amazing my hair was over the radio before I'd even met him.” Carlos sighed.  
    Abby raised an eyebrow. “Damn. I'm proud of you Cecil. The you I know now would never do that.”  
    Cecil had gone bright red. “Oh- Uh- Well-” he stammered.  
    Abby smiled and hugged him again. “Thank god you're okay…” she said softly.  
    “But we have to make that happen.” Carlos cut in, oblivious to his bad timing. “So we need to get Cecil from this timeline out and safe. Or, as safe as we can. You said you had a friend who knew some things?”  
    Abby nodded. “Uh- Yeah. Yeah, Steve. I can sneak us out to go see him if you need.” She frowned. “Um, Cecil? You're crushing me.”  
    Cecil loosened his grip, scowling. “Is this necessary.” he said, teeth gritted. Abby blinked.  
    “Is something wrong?”  
   “No! No, it's all fine.” Carlos said hurriedly, laughing nervously. “Let's just get going.”  
   A crash came from the other room, startling them all.   
    “ _ABBY_!” Mrs. Palmer was screaming. “ _WHERE ARE YOU_.”  
    Abby swore and began frantically unlatching her window. A terrified Cecil jumped to help her, while Carlos moved as much furniture as he could in front of the door to buy them time. Unfortunately, that consisted of about three badly damaged chairs and two tattered mattresses.  
    The window swung open, and Abby stepped back to let Cecil through. She frantically motioned for Carlos to follow.  
   “It's much better for her to find me alone in here than you!” she said. “Now hurry!”  
    Carlos abandoned his post at the door and pulled himself through the window after Cecil. He landed on a slated, slanting roof, and almost fell. He caught his balance and started making his way down, keeping his eyes on the window to make sure Abby would get out.  
    The second she was through the window and out of view, they heard the door slam open, as the furniture clattered across the room.  
    “ _DON’T SAY A WORD TO THEM YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A CHILD_ -” Mrs. Palmer's voice came.  
 _Holy crap_. Carlos thought. _That's not the best way to keep a secret, lady._ Not for the first time, he figured Cecil's mother may have gone a little over the deep end.  
    “ _This way_!” Abby hissed, scrambling as quietly as she could down the roof. Carlos followed her as she dropped into a narrow alleyway, where Cecil was already waiting.  
    Abby grabbed her brothers hand and pulled him down the alley, Carlos close behind. They emerged into an open road, a few people watching them worriedly.  
    “Abby?” one young woman asked. “Are you okay? Who are they?”  
    “I'm fine, thank you Diane.” Abby said. “Do you know where Steve would be?”  
    Diane nodded. “He was in Missiongrove Park last time I saw him, about ten minutes ago. Probably still there.”  
    Abby thanked her, and pulled the two down the road towards the park, trying to leave as fast as possible while still being inconspicuous.  
    No one could know.


	9. Sorry but...

After seeing Ghost Stories there's no way I can finish with this storyline.

 

 

I was so, so wrong.


End file.
